The Most Promising Acolyte
by Falara Hughes
Summary: The winter season sets in and the witch's stone proves to be more trouble than it was worth to steal. A followup to my first Thief 2014 story, "The Ghost, The Opportunist and the Predator."
1. Business as Usual

**Part 1: Business as Usual**

For several nights now I've been having a strange, recurring dream: Something was drawing me out of the clock tower. I couldn't see or hear anything unusual but I had the urge to go to the docks. In this dream, I only ever made it to the edge of the clock tower plaza before I'd wake up. I was too wary to move fast enough to take myself further.

This had to be caused by that tourmaline I took from Jordan Sarto. I left it hidden for a while, but I recently felt curious enough to try and study it. On the surface, the stone didn't appear to have any mystical properties at all, but one day I stared deeply into its core. I saw something flicker within it: A flame that was dancing for me alone. When I finally took my eyes away from it, I seemed to have lost several hours of the day. I haven't touched it since then but clearly that was enough to have an impact. I was going to have to figure out a way to stop it from invading my dreams, after I attended to some other tasks I had on my agenda.

* * *

Scribe had her baby at the start of the winter season: A girl she named Addi, after her sister who died when they were young. I paid them a visit after she was born, mainly because Six and I had a job together. I also had something that I was sure they could use: A child-sized blanket, made of the finest wool and embroidered with gold thread.

"Oh Garrett, it's beautiful!" Scribe held up the blanket and appraised the stitching. "Is that the Wainscott family crest? Rumor has it their daughter keeps a small cache of her mother's valuables hidden in the basement to feed her 'imaginary' friend, Mister Blue-Eye."

We exchanged knowing looks. "Mister Blue-Eye doesn't want a little girl doing his work for him. It takes the fun out of breaking and entering."

Six joined in on the conversation after he had gotten ready. "I'd take the handout, gladly. No shame in it." He ran his fingers gently across the crown of Addi's head while she suckled. Almost immediately, she reached up and wrapped her five fingers around one of the three on his hand. "Lookit that quick grab, eh? She's a natural fingersmith, just like her old man."

"Hopefully she'll learn to be _quieter_ than her old man."

"Hey, I'm all business when we're on the clock. That's what counts, yah?"

"The element of surprise doesn't begin at the front door," I argued, then turned for the nearest window. "Shall we?"

* * *

I didn't mind working with Six-Fingers but he liked to make entirely too much conversation on the way to a job. Now that his daughter was born, I especially didn't want to hear what he had to say.

"She's just the smallest, cutest bundle of possibilities I ever laid eyes on, Garrett. From her perfect little five-fingered hands to her perfect little five-toed feet."

"I will give you _half_ of my take today if you don't talk anymore on the way to Auldale." I knew he wouldn't be able to comply, but I thought I would try anyway.

"Can't help it, mate. Addi's the center of my life now. Every breath and move's for her. You'll understand if you ever decide to settle down."

I had more words for him but I waited until we were both safely across a slick rooftop. Cold rain had fallen the day before and turned a lot of the Thieves' Highway into a treacherous obstacle course.

"Aren't you forgetting the woman who gave birth to her?"

"Oh, I live and breathe for Scribe, too, but that's different. Scribe can take care of herself. Addi needs me. Something about that just makes me care a great deal more, know what I mean?"

I did, but I really wanted this conversation to end. "Let's focus. We're almost there."

* * *

We made our way to Auldale and stopped outside of Brushmore's Jewelry Shop. Rumor—or rather, Scribe's macaw—had it that Brushmore received a rare shipment of blue diamonds that were to be fashioned into a necklace for a new bride. Whether they were real or not, Basso already had a buyer for them. All we had to do was deliver.

The diamonds had to be worth something to someone, because Brushmore's shop was heavily guarded: Two on each door and four inside. Each guard traveled in pairs. I wasn't concerned with going in through a door but we had to take out the guards at the back entrance to make it in through the most accessible window.

Six rolled a coin past the guards from around one corner of the shop while I waited around the other. When the guards ducked down to reach for the coin, we rushed in and knocked their heads together. Then we climbed up to the second level and went in through the wash room window. I knew for a fact that Brushmore wasn't going to be home. Careful observation of his habits for a few days told me he would be off bragging and spending his money at the House of Blossoms.

The next pair of guards were stationed in his living quarters on the upper level. It looked like they decided to stop in his pantry and tip themselves with a share of his food. Six and I blocked them both in the food closet, then helped ourselves to the fine silverware and plates in Brushmore's kitchen. We were counting on the noise from the trapped pair of guards to send the third pair running upstairs. They came on cue, and Six took out the first of the two when he stepped into the kitchen. I caught the other with a closet door just outside of the kitchen doorway. We expected the last pair of guards to enter the shop and investigate the noise but when I checked the downstairs windows, they were still talking and staring across the street.

Brushmore dealt primarily in gemstones, which meant we had a lot of expensive items to take that fit neatly in our pockets. The blue diamonds, as it turned out, were mostly blue crystals cut in a diamond shape. The largest was real but we didn't have the time to admire it. The upstairs guards broke out of the pantry and their cries finally caught the attention of the pair at the front door. By the time they gathered in the shop, Six and I had already slipped out the back. None of them had seen us—all they knew was that their commission for keeping the building well-guarded was forfeit.

* * *

"These sapphires are rare, mate. Even the facsimiles are top quality." Six held up a pair of earrings to the light of a candle. We brought the whole shop to Basso's office where we were free to admire the collection.

"Yeah, the artistry is top shelf," Basso commented. "Y'know, I can't believe Brushmore thought it would be okay to keep it all in the display cases at night. Ever since he moved that shop to Auldale, his mind's been on everything but a secure business."

I shrugged and paid the least attention. There were too many stones to examine.

"Suppose this is the last job of the season, innit? Snow started dropping on our way back, Bass. Gotta wait 'til that clears up before we can tip on a rooftop again."

"Yeah, well that's why this last job had to be a good one. My bones tell me it might be cold for a while and I need to stock up on a little liquid warmth."

"I'ma hunker down with Scribe and Addi for a few days. Make like one big, happy family. What about you, Garrett? Got plans to keep warm?"

I didn't even look up from my pile of gems to respond. "I'll be around."

* * *

Most of The City's professionals didn't pull jobs in the snow and in that way, I wasn't an exception. Not only did it make the rooftops more of a challenge than I liked, it also left too much of a trail when I walked away from a crime scene. I had plans to do more extensive repairs on the clock tower while the winter weather was at its worst. I also found a warmer place to spend some nights: Lorena's attic in Stonemarket.

We had started sleeping together again, mostly for the convenience and trust, but also because some of the colder days were better spent with a warm body. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement; after all, neither one of us was going to turn the other in for the reward money. We also weren't as attached to each other as people might have assumed. There were whole weeks before the winter season when we didn't see each other. I only knew that she was ready for another visit because she had been to the clock tower and replaced one of the Pinned Castinets from my collection with a ferry token: A reminder of the time we spent escaping Moira Asylum.

"You're going to force me to put those in a better place," I told her. We had lain in silence for a while, watching the frost build on the window closest to her bed.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't keep your precious items on display, Garrett. Make me work for it. I was really hoping to have to climb the clockworks a _little_."

"Careful what you wish for." I had caches hidden all over the clock tower. One in particular was so intermingled with the machinery that anyone who didn't time it just right would lose an arm _and_ a leg trying to retrieve it.

Lorena maneuvered my hand from behind my head to rest on her waist, forcing my arm around her. It wasn't as comfortable for me as it might have been for her but I let it go for now.

She obviously knew I was uncomfortable. "You know, I expected a world-class fingersmith to be a lot better at working a woman's dials."

"Last time I checked, you weren't a wall safe. Though you are almost as heavy as one."

She laughed. "And _you_ are as light as a little girl! But I hear you loud and clear. If you're ready to go again, then you can be on top this time."

I started to make a vague noise that was meant to be a halfhearted rejection but when she reached underneath the blanket and touched me, the objection was lost.

"Well at least one part of you is ready, so why don't we go with that?" Lorena always did get what she wanted, but I didn't mind that when it was something I wanted as well.


	2. The Perfect Hiding Place

**Part 2: The Perfect Hiding Place**

Someone was playing a flute nearby and it woke me up in the middle of the night. Lorena must not have heard it because she was still asleep when I glanced at her. I sat up and looked at the nearest window but the sound wasn't muted by the glass. It seemed to be coming from all around me. How could Lorena not hear this? I turned to wake her—I saw myself still laying next to her in the bed. I must have been dreaming. Whatever it was, the flute would not be ignored. I took a moment to get dressed, then stepped out the window to get a better idea of what direction the sound was coming from.

The music drew me back to the clock tower. It seemed the loudest there but there was no one inside to play it. I closed my eyes and tried to pinpoint the origin of the sound. When I opened them again, I was looking down at the area where I'd hidden the witch's stone. Sarto's tourmaline was calling me for some reason. I had to scale the gears of the old clock to retrieve it.

I woke up just as I reached the stone's hiding place. I was back at Lorena's, undressed and still in her bed. But I was sure the tourmaline had in fact called to me in my sleep. A cold wind was filling the attic from the window I had opened in my dream.

* * *

When I returned home the next night, I immediately took the tourmaline from its hiding place. It looked like a regular gemstone at the time but by now I knew better. If it was going to be manipulating me in my sleep I was going to have to get rid of it, but where do you hide something that could be dangerous in the wrong hands?

The answer was down below one of my favorite tourist attractions: The House of Blossoms. Poor Madame Xiao-Xiao never got over how easily I made myself at home in her place of business. She tried increasing the guards and adding more lights. Problem was, she built her business in a cavern that had more entrances than she had eyes to watch them.

I made it back to the library below the House without alerting a single guard. The madame was smart enough to find its entrance and I saw that she had set up her own personal sitting area in the top level. There were many levels below that, though, and I knew one of them would be deep enough to store the witch's stone.

Everything seemed peaceful below the depths of The City. Moments like these were my reward for being able to go where others wouldn't dare. Much of the library ruins were stable enough for me to travel, but I still had to be careful. A few of the walkways only needed the slightest touch to disintegrate. I also remembered seeing Gloomers in the caverns back when I first paid the area a visit. At least I knew how to deal with them if they crossed my path.

I made it down to an area that might have been a courtyard at one point. There were archery targets across an old fence and a practice dummy sticking halfway out of the ground. The mechanism that raised and lowered it must have been broken. I could see hallways beyond a sparring circle and I figured one of them might make a decent place to store the witch's stone. Before I could cut across the courtyard to approach them, a figure shifted in the darkness.

It hadn't seen me but it was lurking as if it were looking for something. I kept to the doorway of the hall I was near. The figure wasn't a Gloomer—it was wearing a hooded cloak that concealed its features well. Another thief, perhaps, but I wasn't about to introduce myself.

Our attention was equally attracted to a pile of rocks that spilled down from above. A Gloomlurker landed unceremoniously on that pile after it was formed. It was dazed at first, then immediately looked in my direction, sensing the primal energy in the witch's stone. The Gloomer's eyes burned red as it scrambled from the rock pile, but before it or I could move, the cloaked figure rushed it from behind and killed it. In a flash of movement, he stabbed the creature in the back with a blade glowing hot as if it had been pulled from a fire.

The stranger looked in my direction then. I could finally make out that it was a man with a harsh scowl, but he turned away too quickly for me to see anything else. I didn't want to speak to him but I was going to follow him. He ducked through one of the halls and rushed down two long turns before he reached a dead end in a half-collapsed room.

I looked in the room just as he was scratching above a door with what looked like an old stick. He could have been a mad beggar—the stick knocked dust away from the doorframe but didn't do much else. Then he opened the door just enough to slip through. I waited a moment before approaching it; there was no keyhole to look through and I didn't want any surprises.

There was nothing behind the door but a collapsed tunnel. Rocks had fallen right up to the door frame and there was no room for a person to squeeze through. I felt around for hidden switches or other signs of a secret tunnel but couldn't find anything. Whatever he drew above the door had to have been a part of it. I stared up at the broad lintel until my eyes were sore. Nothing. Whoever he was, he knew something I didn't about navigating these ruins.

Now that I knew someone had been down there, I couldn't use the old library as a hiding place for the witch's stone. I returned it to the clock tower and decided to try again later.

* * *

Nothing happened when fell asleep in my own bed; perhaps the tourmaline didn't like that I slept somewhere other than the clock tower. I never realized that magical artifacts could get jealous. I had to put it out of my mind for now. The snow melted quicker than expected and Basso already had a job lined up for me.

An old friend of his was back in The City, and by "old friend" he meant someone who owed him money. Wren Perkis was someone he knew from way back in his safe-cracking days. They had stolen a large cache together but when it came time to split the take, Perkis disappeared. That was years ago, and while Basso didn't normally hold grudges for that long, jobs were still scarce at the time. I certainly didn't mind doing him the profitable favor.

Perkis had found himself a nice little house in Riverside, probably with some money he had cheated out of another accomplice. There was still a little ice and snow left over from the recent storm so I had to be careful where I stepped. I didn't have to worry about any guards, though. I only had to look out for Wren.

He was snoring so loud I could hear him all the way from the kitchen downstairs. This wasn't going to be hard at all. There were items in crates all over the house like he had just moved in. I made sure to take all the valuable ones for myself, but what Basso wanted wasn't so obviously on display.

I didn't find a safe in the basement, though there were a few personal items hidden under the floorboards—more of a consolation prize for me. Perkis couldn't have moved without any money, which meant I was going to have to enter his bedroom.

I could smell the alcohol from the keyhole of his door and it was stronger when I went in. That would keep him out of my way at least. Anyone who drank that much would have to write down the important things, so I started going through his pockets to find what I was looking for. He had a nice gold watch clipped to his vest and in his back pocket, there was a slip of paper that described the location of a hidden safe and conveniently included the combination. Basso was really going to love me after this.

I stepped out into the hallway and stopped after closing the bedroom door. That flute I heard in my dream was playing, only I knew I wasn't asleep. The witch's stone had evolved to calling me while I was awake? I didn't feel as drawn to it as I did in my dreams but it was irritating that I could hear it at all.

The second bedroom door opened and a little girl stepped out. Wren's daughter, or at least I hoped she was. She was certainly a contrast to him: Small, with curly hair kept off her face by green ribbons that matched her nightgown. I thought she might have seen me—her eyes were wide open—but as she moved for the stairs, I realized that she was sleepwalking. Interesting. I decided to do my good deed for the year and maneuvered her back to her bed. Besides, if she took a tumble down the stairs, the noise might just have been enough to send her supposed father running.

* * *

Wren's fortune was hidden in Eel's End and there was a lot more than I expected to see. No wonder he came back to The City—he probably took what he could when he left before, and came back to live off the rest. I wasn't going to be able to take it all with me but I took plenty for Basso and planned to give him the paper so he knew where to get the rest.

The flute eventually stopped playing, much to my relief. For a while it felt like it was right in my ear. I gave Basso what he was owed and took my share back to the clock tower. The night was young and I still needed to find somewhere to distance myself from that witch's stone.

* * *

The Queen of Beggars didn't owe me any favors but she always seemed to have a vested interest in The City's deeper mysteries. I decided to see if there was somewhere in the depths of her chapel she might be willing to store the stone.

"Come to keep an old woman company, Garrett?"

"You seem to have more than you need." The ruins of the old church were crowded with beggars and vagrants. They tended to huddle together in the winter to minimize the death brought on by the cold weather.

She rose from her seat and gestured for me to follow her further in. "Walk with me. I'm sure what you have to say shouldn't be so freely shared aloud."

"I thought you trusted all the beggars in your court."

"I trust the rats, for they only know to tell the truth. Everyday, new beggars join the streets and until they learn to be as trustworthy as the rats, they do not get to keep my company when I have important visitors. Now." We stopped in a dead end past a pair of tall statues. "What do you have that you wish to show me?"

I took the tourmaline from its hiding place and held it out to her. "This is the stone that Jordan Sarto was using to cast her spells. I thought I would hold onto it, but it's proving to be the one treasure I don't want."

The Queen of Beggars held her hands close to the gem but never touched it. Her eyes moved as if she were reading something that was written in the air. I became mildly concerned when she lowered her palms and turned away.

"Are you sure about that, Garrett?"

"Mystic artifacts aren't something that I want to deal with, especially if they're going to ruin my sleep."

"The witch's stone is not your enemy. It was being used, and like any tool it can be used for good or evil."

"I don't want to use it at all." I sighed in frustration. "I don't care for all the mystics that have been on the rise since Baron Northcrest tried his ritual. I don't care to be in the middle of it. If you want the stone, it's yours, but I can't have something like that around me if it's going to play with my head. I had enough of that when Erin was leading me around by my mind's eye."

She was silent for a long time. "It is true that nothing has been the same since that fateful day. The very soul of The City has changed. It has become more visible. Communicable." She turned to me and added, "That is why you must keep the stone."

"I don't want it messing with me!"

"It is trying to tell you something, if only you would listen."

Another unsatisfying conversation with the Queen of Beggars. I don't know what I was thinking. I pushed past her and headed back the way I came. I didn't even stop when she called out to me.

"Open your mind's eye again, Garrett. The City is no longer a place where you can get by using just the pair you were born with."

I returned the witch's stone to the clock tower, but I decided to sleep at Lorena's again. I didn't feel like being in the same building as it, even though I knew it could reach out to me at a distance. It was rare that any item of value made itself undesirable to me but I knew that I couldn't just sell it on the black market and be done with it. _Damn the Queen of Beggars._ I had to be rid of that stone.


	3. Dreaming in Metaphors

**Part 3: Dreaming in Metaphors**

It was happening again. I woke up and that flute was playing. When I sat up, my body was still laying next to Lorena. Perhaps if I could reach the stone before I woke up, that would stop it from bothering me.

This time I didn't bother getting dressed. No one would see me and I felt none of the cold. I worked my way across the Thieves' Highway and made it to the clock tower, only to realize that the music wasn't coming from inside. It was still playing but the sound that drew me back to my hideout was now coming from a different direction. Somewhere to the south. I left the tower and continued to follow it. Someone else in the city must have had another witch's stone. Just my luck. I needed to pinpoint its location so I could collect it when I was awake.

I followed the sound past the South Quarter and all the way to the docks. It was coming from the old customs house bridge. The doors of the bridge had been barricaded since the days of the Gloom and no one seemed compelled to reopen it for business. I started to look for a way in but my attention was pulled in another direction by the sound of rapid footsteps.

A small crowd of glowing figures were rushing down the street towards the customs house. They stayed small despite how close they came to me and not one of them seemed to be taller than my hips. Of the thirteen I counted, eleven ran with bundles held tightly to their chests. This dream was getting more interesting by the second.

The figures ran past the highcollar who patrolled the docks. He was peering intently in all directions but didn't seem to see them or me. They crawled beneath the stone walkway that lead up to the customs house and disappeared. That was the entrance, then. I climbed down for a closer look and by the time my feet touched the docks, the flute-playing stopped. The air was suddenly very uncomfortable in its silence.

I moved away from the building and stood next to the patrolman. Something was wrong, I could feel it. Then a loud bang rang out across the docks as the doors shook behind their barricade. It had to have been part of my dream—the guard didn't even notice it. The doors shook again as if something inside was ramming against them.

And again.

And again.

The slamming continued and each time it did, I lost more and more interest in approaching the old building. My eagerness fled altogether when a guttural snarl accompanied the banging. Whatever was in that building wasn't human. The banging and growling built up to the point where I had to cover my ears to soften the effect. It felt like monster was knocking inside my head.

The figures I saw earlier rushed out from under the stone walkway and ran back the way they came. They were fewer in number than they were when they went in and no longer carried their bundles. Each one screamed in terror but I couldn't hear it over the sound of the banging. I watched them flee and wanted to flee with them, but I was stuck in place. Forced to hear the banging. The growling. It was starting to drive me _insane!_

* * *

"Garrett! Garrett, wake up!"

Lorena's voice introduced me to a cold wind that brought me back to my senses. I was laying on the floor, being pulled backwards. My feet were still outside her attic window but I drew them in quickly out of the frost. I was freezing. Lorena threw a blanket around me but it would take a while for the warmth to kick in.

"What the hell, Garrett? You were standing naked on the roof! Are you trying to make yourself sick?"

"How long was I out there?"

"Long enough, you idiot! What were you doing out there?"

I told her about my dream and the tourmaline's effect on me. By the time I finished my story, she had a bowl of sloop heated to warm me from the inside.

"Do you think another witch is hiding in the customs house?"

"I don't know." I drank as much of the sloop as I could stand to in a single swallow. It was watery and bland but at least it was hot. "There is something in there, though. Something terrible. I'm going to check it out."

"I'll come with you."

I shook my head, partly to decline the offer but also to shake off the sensation of choking down another mouthful of the warm concoction. "I'm just going to look. If there's something in there that needs to be handled the way we handled Sarto, I'll come get you and Six for it. I'm not stupid, or suicidal."

Lorena nodded but her gaze was rightfully suspect; after all, if she hadn't pulled me out of my dream I might have frozen to death right outside of her attic. "Well I'm going to be in Blackbrook for a few days so don't do much more than look without me."

I nodded, then took a deep breath to brace myself for the rest of the sloop.

* * *

I had to get supplies from one of the trench-coat merchants and the closest to the clock tower sold his wares near the Crippled Burrick. That brought me past Basso's office, and while I didn't intend to pay him a visit, I overheard some yelling that told me I should stop by.

"You son of a bitch! This is not the payment you were owed!"

"Hey! I already took what you owed me! Whatever else you think I took, it was probably somebody else giving you what you deserved!"

"This is _not_ what I deserve, Basso. Now give her back!"

Wren was in Basso's office throwing a fit. Now that he was awake and sober, I could see how broad-shouldered he was. He could probably take on the two of us if he had any real fighting skill. The way he knocked random items around the room told me he only knew how to throw his weight but not how to put it to good use.

I stepped up behind Perkis and grabbed his forearm just as he reared back to swing a punch at Basso. Then I kicked him down to one knee and bent his arm behind his head so if he tried to pull away, he would hurt himself. "Calm down or I'll put you down."

After he strained his arm a few times, he finally got the message and settled down on both knees. Basso tried to cover up his relief with anger. "Think I didn't have an ace up my sleeve, Perkis? I know it's been a couple years since we've seen each other but you should know me better than that!"

"Thought I knew you," Perkis grunted. "Never figured you for a kidnapper. Now where's my Mary!"

He was talking about the girl that lived with him, not the coins we stole. I let go of his arm and moved around him so he could see the dangerous look in my eyes. For most it was usually enough to keep them from doing something stupid.

Basso did all the talking. "I may be a lot of things, but I'm no kidnapper, Wren. Whoever this Mary is probably got sick of your stink and ran off. Now get outta here before I have my associate twist your other arm."

Perkis didn't leave his spot. His body was shaking and those broad shoulders of his sank along with his head. He shuddered a sound that didn't quite make sense—until he lifted his face again. He was crying. The tears hadn't fallen yet but they had glossed over his eyes. "Mary's my babe... My little girl." He couldn't hold back the tears then. "Her mum passed recently. Is why I moved back to this city. I wanted her to have a fairer chance than we did on the road. Now she's gone missing. I can't lose her, Bass. She's all I got left."

I exchanged a look with Basso, who I could tell was trying to stay firm. He scratched his hair and spoke to Perkis with less anger in his tone. "Yeah, well, I hate to be the one to tell you but this city's no place for a child. If she's been taken by someone, there's a few obvious places you could look and my office isn't one of them."

Perkis crawled forward on his knees, as if he didn't look pathetic enough. I took a half-step forward to keep my warning fresh in his mind but when he stopped, he looked up at us with a desperate plea in his eyes. "Please, Bass. I'll give you back your share and then some. Help me find Mary, won't you?"

"I already took back my share, and the 'then some?' I already know where you keep it hid. I don't need anything from you."

"She's innocent, Bass! She's all I have left! You can take every coin; I don't care. I just want her back safe!"

I finally had enough of the exchange. "If it'll stop that pathetic noise you're making, I'll look for her. Just make sure that every coin in your vault is polished so that it looks good when it's transferred to mine." Desperate men were easy to take advantage of and I knew he wasn't going away until someone agreed to do something. At least I could profit from it.

Basso shook his head and smirked. "You hear that, Wren? My associate's feeling very generous tonight. So you go home, make Mary's room look nice and pretty for her, then make sure you have all your money ready to go when he gets back."

We watched Perkis collect himself and listened to him describe what his daughter looked like. I already knew but he didn't need to know that. As he turned for the door, he let out one last feeble statement. "You won't regret this. She means more to me than money."

"Yeah, well sober up so you can show her a little better!" Basso turned to me after Wren was gone. "Ugh. That poor girl'll be lucky if she hasn't already been shipped overseas. Are you really gonna do this, Garrett? Kids disappear all the time in The City and you know it's never pretty to see where they end up."

"You didn't see how much gold was in his vault. If his little girl is worth that much to him, I'll bring her back no matter what condition she's in."

"All right, but I have a list of other things you can do while you do that. Whether you find the girl or not, there is money to be made, my friend."


	4. Unspeakable Acts

**Part 4: Unspeakable Acts**

I still intended to look into the customs house on the docks but there were a few places I could check for Mary on my way there. Frankie Sawyer made a partial living ransoming children back to their parents. Les Brooks smuggled children outside of The City to the highest bidder. The lucky ones were being adopted by barren housewives. There was also Constance Daily's orphanage at the edge of the Skinmarket, where little girls and boys learned how to please an aristocrat. Six-Fingers escaped from there when he was younger and I don't think he's even told Scribe what happened while he was inside.

I checked them all and didn't see any signs of Mary. Frankie turned out to be dead—I guess he tried to hold the wrong child for ransom; it was bound to happen. Les had been out of town for weeks, possibly on a delivery run. The orphanage was running as smoothly as ever but their ledger didn't describe any new arrivals. Some of the children had gone missing, but that was to be expected in a place like that. The ones who couldn't take anymore would always find a way out.

* * *

The flute started playing again just as I left the Skinmarket. It was time to find out what was causing the sound. The docks weren't far away and it was late enough that I could expect only one patrolman to try and get between me and the customs house.

There was a wide duct beneath the walkway that lead to the building. A grate set in the side of the duct filtered air from within. I had to use my wrench to loosen it and even then, it took some effort to pry it the rest of the way open. Beyond it, the duct extended below the customs house floor and branched off in several directions. The music was coming from all of them.

A thick odor became more obvious the further I went in. It was a combination of smoked and rotting flesh with other rancid smells mixed in. I kept moving in the direction of the smell by reminding myself that I was just there to look. Unless this artifact was in plain sight and an easy grab, I wasn't going to try and take it without a good plan.

After I crawled several yards in I heard rapid movement from the entrance of the duct. By then I couldn't see back far enough to tell what was coming, so I moved around a corner and managed to turn around with my blackjack in hand, just in case. The sound of movement came closer but it also split off in other directions. There must have been more than one person and they were all turning into the branches that spread underneath the customs house floor.

One passed by me: A boy, no more than seven years old. He was carrying something in one arm that made it difficult for him to crawl forward quickly. I started to lean back into the main shaft to stare after him, but another child came and turned into the pathway across from me. This one was a girl wearing a fine silk nightgown. She must have belonged to someone in Dayport or Auldale.

A third child turned to enter the duct I was in but stopped for a moment when he saw me. Actually, he was looking through me. His right arm cradled a gold bracelet, pearl necklace and Baron's Watch medal of honor. I was sorely tempted to take the items from him but that distant look in his eyes kept me from touching him. After a moment, he continued to move in and crawled past me without a word. I tucked my blackjack away and turned to follow him.

The flute had to have been calling them the same way it was calling to me in my dreams. Its music was still playing while the children made their way up to the floor level of the customs house. I kept up with the boy but stopped after he crawled out of an open space and into the main hall. The smell was much stronger there. I sat behind an old desk while I caught my breath and examined my surroundings. There was nothing but dust and abandoned furnishings in the section where I was, but further in I could see the dim flicker of a bonfire through an open archway.

The music finally stopped by the time I reached the archway. A collection of thirteen children were gathered around a fire burning in the middle of what used to be a meeting hall. Most were dressed for bed but the rest were still in what some would consider their day clothes. I knew how that was. When you come from a poor family or no family at all, you don't always have the luxury of changing into something comfortable when you go to sleep.

Nine of the thirteen children had carried something with them: Jewels, silver and other precious items that were on my personal list of things to take when I went into any home. Whoever called them here must have been using them to steal. Clever, but an unfair advantage that I wasn't going to allow to continue.

The smell of flesh became even stronger in the brief moment that a door was opened in a far corner of the meeting hall. The old woman that emerged from the room concealed herself with a burlap cloak but the features I could make out looked off somehow—like her sagging cheeks were barely holding together.

"Come to granny, children. Bring me your tribute. Those who have nothing to offer, will give of themselves." Something about her voice sent a chill down my spine. I shook it off and crouched near the archway for a closer look. The children stood single-file and held up what treasures they had to offer, if any. "Granny" went down the line and eagerly collected their offerings in a tin bucket. When she came to a child that had nothing to offer, she stood them off to the side and continued her task.

I shouldn't have felt so unnerved by an old woman but I did. The more I tried to catch a glimpse of her features, the more I found my gaze shying away. Her hands were like the Queen of Beggars' hands, only the loose skin hung like ill-fitting gloves. I forced myself to keep watching her actions but in the back of my mind, the urge to leave was building to a crescendo.

"Nine of you have done your granny proud. Four of you, however..." She turned to the ones she singled out and gestured in the direction of the door she came from. With her back turned I could see a pan flute hanging from the cord tied around her waist. It looked like just another piece of wooden junk but that had to have been what she was using to play the song.

The children who came empty-handed turned and walked into the room she indicated, not even flinching at the smell that wafted from it. After the last child in closed the door, the old woman turned back to the remaining children and pointed through the archway. "You have bought your return, now go. I will call for you again when the time is right." They ran back the way they came, which meant I had to flatten against the wall and wait for them to pass me. Then I turned to look for the old woman but she was gone. A door in a different corner of the room was partway open and another light shined from it.

Not being able to see her made my uneasiness go away. I worked my way around the shadows of the meeting room and snuck up to the door to take a look. She was in a small room, spreading the children's treasure on a table that was already leg-deep in a hill of coins and other valuables. This strange woman had been going about her scheme long enough to amass that much wealth. If not for the witch's stone, I would have never known about it.

She seemed distracted by her bounty, so I took that opportunity to check the first door she came from. Through the keyhole, I could see the four children standing side-by-side, facing a wall to the left. I couldn't see what they were looking at but there were tears in each of their eyes. Curious. I had to conceal myself in a dark corner when the old woman came out of her treasure room, but as soon as she stepped through the first door she came from, I went back to looking and listening.

"No tears now. Tears are bad for the skin." She took a candlestick from a small table and motioned the children through another door. I waited a few beats before stepping into the brief hall where they were. As soon as I looked to my left I was immediately caught off-guard by what I saw.

There were children's faces on the wall. The skin from their faces had been peeled off and hung like trophies. Each empty eye socket and open mouth multiplied the dreadful feeling that crawled around in my gut. Was that frail old woman capable of doing such a grisly thing, or did she have accomplices? I almost didn't want to find out but I knew I had to gather as much information as I could to take back to Six and Lorena. Hell, I might even have to break my code and tell the Baron's Watch about this. A ring of child-murderers who used magic to enslave their victims was well over the line of what I was willing to ignore.

I gathered my grit and went through the next door. This one led to a flight of steps that descended into a dark hallway with doors on each side. The smell of flesh was strongest there and blood seeped out from underneath a few of the closed doors. I crept towards a light at the end of the hall where an opening revealed another room. The four children were standing in the middle of that room, facing the old woman. I heavily weighed the idea of using an arrow to kill her but had no idea what I would do with four mesmerized children afterwards.

The old woman spoke again and my doubt resurfaced. "Those who have nothing to offer must give of themselves. Did I not say these words?"

The children started crying but otherwise couldn't move. I found myself feeling a little paralyzed but at least I had the darkness to conceal me. Something about this environment was definitely messing with my mind, just like it had in the dream. If I could just hold on long enough to get the full idea of what I was up against, I would escape with enough information to form a solid plan of action.

The woman released the string on her robe, then stretched her hands out to her sides. The skin on her fingers pulled until they were filled by longer digits. Her arms stretched beyond the length of her sleeves and she pushed the hood from her face. Light from wall sconces emphasized the sagging skin that hung from a face attached to nothing but the tendons that suspended it above her neck muscles. When her arms dropped, the rest of her cloak slid away from her to reveal a body held together by borrowed bones, patches of flesh and other faces contorted in the horror of their own death. _She was a monster_, and I was so stunned by what I saw I couldn't breathe.

My mind began to unravel as I looked at it. _A monster. The old woman was a monster. A monster that held itself together with the skin of children!_ How was it possible for such a thing to exist? The Gloomers were one thing—they obviously used to be men and women, but _this? _This was the stuff of nightmares! The sort of thing you would tell a child to be afraid of so they wouldn't leave the house at night! It wasn't supposed to be real—things like this were _not _supposed to be _real!_

The creature gripped one child by the scalp and pulled down so quickly that her skin and clothes _peeled right off!_ The other children screamed loudly enough to mask the sound of my own unexpected shout of terror, but when I fell and crawled backwards, the monster looked in my direction. I scrambled to my feet and ran—damn the noise I was making! The bestial growl I remembered from my dream echoed down the hall and I knew I had to hide.

I pushed past a door on my right and threw myself against it once it closed. I could hear the monster passing down the hallway—searching for signs of an intruder. _Get a grip, Garrett._ I closed my eyes and concentrated on calming my breath so she wouldn't know which door I was behind.

The wailing was unbearable. The girl who lost her skin was screaming the loudest. I didn't know how I was going to get over witnessing that, or knowing that the others had the same fate in store. The very image was burned into my eyelids and forced me to reopen my eyes.

I was looking at the floor. Light from the monster's passing candle shone through the space below the door and I quickly shifted my legs so they wouldn't cast a shadow. I stepped on something wet and finally turned to look at the room I was in: The old store room was piled high with the flesh, bones and scalps of uncounted victims—so many fine heads of hair that were now matted with blood. Some were still in the evening hairstyles their mothers put them in before they tucked them into bed. One particularly curly scalp was being held out of a pile of flesh by a pair of green ribbons—

My heart sank all the way to my calves. The green nightgown laying near the scalp confirmed what I already knew. Mary was called to the customs house by the monster that lived there. She had no tribute and she was killed. Then a realization struck me so hard, I dropped to my knees at the edge of all the gore.

Mary didn't have a tribute because I robbed Wren Perkis' house.

Mary Perkis suffered and died because of _me_.


	5. Red Jenny's Tears

**Part 5: Red Jenny's Tears**

I had to face him. I had to look him in the eye as I held out the blood-stained ribbon and gown. I told Wren Perkis that his daughter was dead, though I didn't go into any specific details. I don't know how I kept it together when he collapsed in front of me. Basso could see in my eyes that I should have heeded his warning. I turned from his office empty-handed and left him to deal with a grieving father. After what I had witnessed, I felt too sick to do anything but return to my hideout and go to bed.

* * *

I couldn't leave the clock tower for several days after that. I was sure I had gotten sick from standing out on the roof that one night, but I also felt so weighed down I couldn't move. I laid in bed and barely got any sleep. I kept seeing Perkis' daughter, her bloody clothes in the store room, and that monster that pretended to be an old woman. I couldn't understand why I was in such shock. Nothing had ever affected me like that before. I should have never entered the customs house.

I should have never stolen from Wren Perkis.

Every night I heard the tune again. It reminded me that the terrible things I saw were still taking place. The music tormented me, knowing there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to cover my ears with my pillow but the song just played inside my head. A few times I took the tourmaline from hiding and almost threw it out a window. I couldn't follow through with the throw; it wouldn't let me. I asked what it wanted from me but it never answered. It just played that damn tune and reminded me of the bloody room.

My messages started piling up. Basso had trained another magpie to carry his matchboxes and I could hear it drop them off upstairs. Rumor paid a visit but I waved her away. I even caught one of the Queen of Beggars' rats nosing around in my bed. When I didn't respond to it sniffing around my face, it left as quickly as it came.

I didn't have any actual company until Lorena returned. She slipped into the clock tower and went right for my collection of The Flowers Eternal. She was going to leave a sign that she was back in town but didn't think to check and see if I was home.

I moved in my bed and tried not to make a sound.

She got a feeling of being watched and turned away from the display case to look behind the stairs. "Garrett? What are you doing in bed? The Ardins are having a cotillion for their youngest daughter. I expected you to be there taking everything right out from under them."

She approached the bed and got a good look at my face. "Gods above, you look awful. Did you catch ill from standing out in the cold? Let me clean up your face a bit."

I wanted her to go away but I couldn't vocalize it. Maybe I was cursed. I hadn't felt the same since I escaped from the monster's lair.

She brought over a bowl of rain water and used it to dampen my face. The cool moisture gave me the energy to turn away from her and pull my blanket tighter around myself.

"Garrett... What is wrong with you? What happened while I was away?"

I couldn't answer her question. I couldn't tell her about what I had seen or, caused to happen. She already knew about the flute but I couldn't tell her that it was playing right now, drowning out her words, filling my head with the images of skinless children desperately trying to hold themselves together. All I could do was take deep breaths and try not to see the old hag reaching from the shadows with her long fingers to take my skin.

"NO!" I knocked Lorena aside when I tumbled backwards out of the bed. I could hear her yelling at me but I moved too quickly to pay attention. I had to get some air. I grabbed my cloak and shoes and took off without even the basic tools I used to get around. I didn't need them. I had no idea where I was going but I had no plans to steal anything.

* * *

Somehow I ended up in Dayport. It was a long walk there in The City streets and the cold wind kept threatening to force me back home. I wandered around and kept an eye out for children that might have been running with bundles in their arms. I thought that if I could have stopped at least one, that might have made me feel better. The music stopped before I found any. How long had this been going on? How many of them ended up on that monster's wall because I had casually taken what I could from their parents' homes? The thought made me feel sick again. I needed to lie down.

I slipped between two houses and found a grate to crawl into. I ended up in a cellar, stretched out on a very familiar crate. My aimless wandering brought me to the Wainscott house, where I had hidden when Thief-Taker Accardi nearly captured me. Their youngest daughter might have already been a part of the monster's trophy room. My chest burned when I thought about it, but I still somehow managed to fall asleep.

* * *

Daylight was coming through the cellar windows when I woke up, though not enough to light my hiding place. Each sliver of light set off my migraine and sweat was dripping down my forehead. I tried to get comfortable on the crate but every position was worse than the last. I was going to have to go home.

The cellar door opened and stopped me from moving. I could hear a man rooting around and humming to himself. If he discovered me, there wouldn't be much I could do to get away. I stayed as still as I could while resisting the pangs in my head brought on by the fever.

More footsteps entered the cellar. "Hello, Mister Crowley!"

_The girl was alive._ Something about that made my chest feel lighter than it had in days.

"Young lady Wainscott. Come to play in the cellar again, eh? Visiting Mister Blue-Eye, is it?"

"Yes!"

"Well don't visit him for too long. Supper'll be ready soon and I'll not set a place for someone I can't see. That means you _and_ your mystery man, eh?"

I should have known that of anyone in the house, the youngest Wainscott would find me quickly. She crawled around the crates that concealed my hiding place and stopped when she saw me laying there. We stared at each other for a long moment until Mr. Crowley's voice broke the silence.

"Lady Wainscott, don't soil your evening dress in the dust. Your mother will be furious if you do."

She turned around and called, "I won't," then continued to face outward until the cellar door closed. Once she was sure we were alone, the girl turned back to me and crawled further into my hiding space. "Mister Blue-Eye! I can see you again!"

I lifted my hand briefly in a weak greeting.

Her features wrinkled as she studied me. "Your eye isn't blue anymore. Did something happen to you?"

I shook my head.

That look of uncertainty became a look of worry. "Are you sure you're okay? Your eyes look very sad."

"I am." I finally had to admit it. What I had seen in the customs house had shaken me worse than anything I had seen before. That monster was so terrible to look at, and the things she did... I completely doubted my ability to do anything about it.

My chest started shaking and when I squeezed my eyelids together, tears started running down my face. I couldn't believe it—I was crying. I hadn't cried since... Since I was too small and helpless to do anything else. It couldn't be helped. I felt so tired and sick, and the girl looked so much like Mary Perkis, I couldn't stand it.

She crawled further in and curled up on my chest. It was comforting to focus my breathing into the same rhythm as hers. It helped to calm me down. I turned my head to wipe away the tears and saw a rat staring at me from the grate: The Queen of Beggars' calling card but I refused to answer like this. I put my arms around the youngest Wainscott and closed my eyes to let the fever pain wash over me.


	6. Fever Pains

**Part 6: Fever Pains**

The girl must have slipped away after I had fallen asleep again. Darkness in the cellar told me it was night and my head was no longer hurting, which meant my fever had to have finally broken. I still ached in certain places but at least the smallest light didn't weigh me down.

The music started again. I was prepared to ignore it until I remembered the girl. She came from a wealthy family but I didn't want her to see that terrible place.

Why? What was she to me?

_Everything. _I crawled into the cellar's open space and made for the inner door.

Lights were on and servants were busy preparing the house for the morning. I didn't have anything with me I could have used to distract them. When the cook came in from the dining room, I had to duck under the kitchen table and it seemed to take forever for him to step away.

Once the cook turned around, I slipped into the hallway and found the switch for its lights. I could hear a maid stepping out from a wash room to investigate and I ducked inside a standing closet to avoid her. _Dammit._ She turned the lights back on. A butler stopped near the cabinet to polish a candlestick and I knew I was stuck for a moment.

The butler turned to a table across the hall but I could hear the maid nearby and didn't know which way she might be facing. Then I saw her—the girl was walking down the hallway. She had a jewelry box in her arms and a look in her eyes that said she was in a waking dream. The butler didn't see her because he had his back to her and the maid I heard must have been looking in another direction. _I couldn't let her go out that door!_

I eased the cabinet open and slid past the butler as quickly as I could.

"Hey! What the—Who the devil are you!"

There was no time to respond. _She was almost at the front door!_

"Stop!" The butler tackled me from behind and we ended up in a struggle. I rolled onto my back and knocked him into a side table. When I rolled over again, the girl was already standing in the open doorway.

She was gone in an instant. As soon as she set foot outside, her body shimmered in a blue light and she was gone! I ran to the doorway to see if there was any sign of her. Nothing. The children made it through the streets unnoticed because no one could see them running by!

"Stop! Thief!" The butler had recovered and the maid was screaming. I ducked out of the front door just in time to avoid another tackle and didn't stop running after that. The girl might have been invisible but I knew where she was headed. If I could get there when she appeared again, I could grab her and keep her from entering the monster's lair.

* * *

I ran all the way to the docks in South Quarter. I thought my legs were going to give out—or that my heart was going to stop beating—but I couldn't slow down. Not while the music was playing.

"Garrett, stop!"

The Queen of Beggars' voice jerked me to a stop. When I tried to take another step I ended up on one knee, breathing hard and biting back the wash of muscle strain.

"The girl will be fine. She has her tribute, and you are not ready to set foot in there again."

I looked over my shoulder and saw her emerge from a doorway of the side alley we were in. "You _knew_ that monster was there," I hissed. "You knew it was there and you did nothing about it!"

"What would you have an old blind woman do, Garrett? Meet the danger head-on? You learned on your own how unwise that would be."

"You could have told me when I came to you before!"

"I told you what you needed to know. You didn't listen. You didn't use the witch's stone."

The music stopped. All of the children who were called this evening must have arrived. "She's going to kill some of them!" I started to rise but the Queen's voice once again stopped me from moving forward.

"You cannot help them. Not as you are."

My anger only added to the madness I felt. With all the sickness, guilt, confusion and nightmares, I was ready to swim to Moira and check myself in. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten or drank anything. How had I run so far? Everything was aching all of a sudden. I dropped to my hands and knees and stared helplessly at the distant barricade that marked the entrance to the customs house bridge.

"Why... Why is this happening to me?" I sounded as pathetic as Wren Perkis and hated myself for it.

"Because you did not listen." I could hear the Queen of Beggars approach me from behind. "You went in there, unprepared, and you paid the price. Your mind and your heart suffered grave wounds. Those are the hardest to heal, Garrett, especially for one who practices subterfuge with his own emotions."

"Tell me what to do." I looked down at the hand she rested on my shoulder. The old joints and sagging skin were too much like the hag in the customs house—I had to look to the ground in shame.

She walked in front of me and used that same hand to lift my chin, forcing me to sit up on my knees. It had been so many years since I had to look up to see the Queen of Beggars' face. This whole ordeal made me feel like a child all over again.

"Return to the clock tower. Offer the witch's stone your attention."

"I tried that before. It wouldn't answer me."

"Because you didn't really want the answer then. You just wanted to be left alone. To put things back the way they once were." Her cheeks curled upwards into a maternal smile. "Do you accept that things can never be the same?"

I nodded submissively and just wanted all of this to go away.

Her dead eyes studied me for what seemed like ages. Maybe she could tell that I was just agreeing with her out of desperation. Maybe she still thought I wasn't ready for whatever the cure was. Once she saw what she was looking for, she let go of my chin and turned to walk away.

"Rest yourself, Garrett. Get over your physical sickness first. Then, look to the witch's stone to heal the rest. Do as I say, and in time you will be ready to face what lies ahead."

I couldn't wait days to heal my mind. I had to deal with this now.

* * *

Maybe I wasn't thinking clearly. Normally I didn't have a problem taking the Queen of Beggars' advice, but that was all the more reason for me to get this over with sooner rather than later. Besides, if the stone was supposed to be helping me, maybe it would do something about my illness as well.

Lorena was waiting for me when I returned to the clock tower. "Where the hell have you been, Garrett?"

"Busy." I dropped my cloak and hopped the guard rail to retrieve the tourmaline from its hiding place.

She didn't follow me but I could hear her calling over the sound of turning gears. "What's gotten into you? Did you look inside the customs house? What did you find there?"

I didn't respond to her until I came back up with the stone. "Nothing good." I had a coughing fit and my chest burned momentarily. "The Queen of Beggars told me to open my mind up to the witch's stone so I could deal with what's happening in there." Before I could raise the stone to my eye level, Lorena took hold of my wrists and kept my arms lowered.

"Are you sure that's what you need to do right _now_, Garrett? When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror?"

My gaze slid to the old mirror I kept above a wash basin. I hadn't shaved in so long that I looked considerably older than I was. My skin was also pale, as if the life had been completely drained out of me. I knew I hadn't eaten well lately but my cheeks shouldn't have been so sunken in. Something was killing me. Seeing myself in that condition only made me more determined to use the stone and get this whole thing over with.

I pulled my wrists out of Lorena's grip and backed away from her. "Something happened to me when I went in the customs house. I have to do this, Lorena. It's the only way to fix it."

She wouldn't stop looking at me as if I was already dead. "Are you sure you don't want to rest first? Garrett, you look really—"

"_Weak?_" I resented her the moment her eyes confirmed my thought. "I'm not weak. I'm cursed. Only there's nothing in my eye this time that's going to draw it out of me." I paced the floor, clutching the tourmaline as if it were the only thing holding me to reality. "This is going to fix it. The Beggar Queen said it would." It was getting harder to think of anything but using the stone.

"Do what you have to do, Garrett, but I'm not leaving until you're better." Lorena propped herself against the nearest railing. "You haven't been yourself lately and if that stone is supposed to help, then I'll just watch and wait."

"Fine." I turned my back on her. I almost looked at her again but I could feel something awaken in the stone, calling for my attention. I raised it up to my eye level and looked into its depths. There was no music playing but something else beckoned me: The blue flame I had seen once before. It was growing larger the longer I stared at it.

"Whatever you're trying to give me," I whispered, "if it will fix this, I'll take it."

A flash from the stone threw me across the room. I could hear Lorena shout but I was too dazed to understand her words. Then I was rising off the ground. The witch's stone met me in the middle of the air and hovered just out of my reach. It glowed so brilliantly I could barely stand to look at it.

Pain came next: The worst I had ever felt. Worse than when I was turned into a Gloomlurker. The stone struck me with a beam of energy that was filling me from my chest and throughout the rest of my body. The feeling was so intense, I knew I was crying out even though I couldn't hear myself over the thunder in my ears. The light was consuming me from within. When it stopped, I felt gravity take hold and the floorboards came swiftly before everything went black.


	7. Into That Good Night

**Part 7: Into That Good Night**

"Bes breath or breathless, sneaksies? The black wood claims you either way!"

Was I breathing? No, I didn't have the urge to take a breath. Something in the darkness told me I didn't need to anymore.

"He is breathless, and he is mine."

"Not fair! The black wood would haves him!"

Those voices were unfamiliar to me: A high-pitched shrill and a firm feminine lilt. Why couldn't I see where they were coming from?

"He belongs to _me_, wretch. Flee back to your scarlet mistress or I will kill you for touching him."

"Hghhhhh! You will regret this! The black wood will haves him and you will regret!"

The voices were gone. I only wondered about them briefly. Something told me they didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. I had found my way to the appeasing darkness and could stay there as long as I wanted. There was no need to see or hear. I belonged to the darkness and it welcomed me like it had tried to so many times in the past.

No. I couldn't stay here. I never meant to go to the darkness. I wanted to taste again. To breathe fresh air and see moonlight bathe the world in its calm reveal. To touch the corners on a well-cut diamond. To hear the churn of the old clock's gears and know when it needed me.

There was something else I needed to do. A scream pierced the darkness and pushed me towards the here and now. It was a child's scream. Children were being slaughtered. I remember now: There was a monster in The City and I had to destroy it. I couldn't accept the comfort of the darkest night, not as long as that monster was still around.

* * *

My ears were drawn to the sound of humming and my eyes focused on a dull light that gathered in the darkness. It wavered like a campfire. No, it _was_ a campfire, perfectly made in the small clearing in front of me. A shadow was crouched near the fire: The figure of a woman, but her back was to me so I couldn't make out her features.

We were surrounded by trees. I could move my eyes upward to see them but couldn't move anything else. Some of the trees had pairs of sunken holes that turned in my direction. Why wasn't I able to move? I told the darkness I wasn't ready.

The humming stopped. "So you said no to the darkness after all. Good." That firm feminine lilt. One of the voices I had heard earlier belonged to this woman. "Then again, I doubt I would have been drawn to you if you were the type to give in to that long, endless night."

She turned from the fire and stood so that its light could show me her features. Everything about her was... strangely perfect. Grown out of green wood, yet even the veins and vines that etched along her curves were complimentary. Completely comfortable in her own skin, she stood in front of me with nothing but the odd shadow to provide a little modesty. Once my eyes adjusted, there was nothing between them and her body but the distance.

I had never seen a woman that kept my gaze for so long. Then again, I had also never seen a woman who was made out of plants. She approached me and knelt down to reach my level. I must have been sitting on the ground but I couldn't see my legs or feel what was beneath me. I couldn't tilt my head at all.

"Same name. Same interesting profession, but a different soul, heart and eyes..." Her fingers brushed the side of my face, an action that seemed to restore my sense of touch. I could feel the bark of the tree I must have been sitting against, and the vines that pinned me to that tree by my forehead, neck and torso. I struggled for a fraction of a second before my bonds constricted to keep me still.

"Be calm, Garrett. I have not brought you here to cause you any harm."

"Who are you?" My words were distorted by the echo of my voice which seemed to travel beyond the trees. I had to concentrate to repeat myself and keep the sound localized.

She smiled and withdrew her hand. "Of course. You are not him; therefore, you do not know me. I am Viktoria, Lady of the Woods, and I have much need of you, my good thief."

The Lady of the Woods... I had read a children's poem about her once. Something about her being a fierce protector of the 'Woodsie folk'... and an immeasurable beauty. I could agree with the latter of that statement, though I was still a little uncomfortable about being this close to her, especially since I was tied down.

My comfort was further challenged by a bright light that entered the corner of my left eye. I wasn't bothered by the light of the campfire but this new light threatened to renew my migraine. I needed to get away from it. I struggled again but the vines reminded me that they were there.

"Let him go, Wood Witch!" A man's voice emerged from the light. I couldn't look at it directly but I could see its reflection in Viktoria's eyes—until her eyes filled with a red glow symbolic of her outrage. That unmatched beauty quickly scaled over with brown bark and brier thorns as she stood to face the newcomer. Her voice became shrill and distorted, similar to the other voice I'd heard in the darkness.

"_Manfools do not command the likes of me here!_"

"He doesn't belong here and you know it! If he stays here, what you need him for—what we all need him for—will not happen."

I didn't realize I was so popular in a place I had never been before. Viktoria's fingers had grown into sharp wooden pikes and she massaged the air with them while deciding whether or not she was going to use them against the man I couldn't see. Then she slashed her claws in my direction. I thought she had cut me into four separate pieces in a single stroke; instead, the vines that held me in place dropped into shreds.

"_Takes him and begone, manflesh,_" she hissed and retreated into the shadows of the wood. "_But mark that I will comes for him again._"

I would have watched her leave but I was compelled to shield my eyes from the light that approached. "Mind turning that down? It's really blinding."

"Hold on." After a moment, the light dimmed enough that I was able to look in his direction. He wore a long cloak that concealed everything but his arms, which were busy manipulating the lantern he held. The light of the lantern wasn't coming from a flame on the inside, though. There were symbols written on three of its sides that glowed with a white intensity brighter than any lamp I'd seen.

The stranger took a pen-sized crystal from hiding and etched a different symbol on the lantern's bare face. It lit up as brightly as it did before, only this time I didn't feel repulsed by it. "I'm sorry for that. Spirit guards don't allow me to select who they effect. Now come on, we have to go."

He turned back the way he came but I only stood up to be at his level. "Go where? Who are you? What do you need me for?"

"We don't have time for this, Garrett." He called to me over his shoulder and kept moving. "Keep up. You don't want to be out of the lamp light for too long."

I stood my ground. "There are too many people here who know my name while I don't know a thing about what's going on." I was too irritated to control the distorted echo of my voice. "I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers, so you better make time."

The light marched back in my direction as the hooded figure returned to the clearing. He stood within arm's reach of me and when he held the lantern between us, his scowl became familiar. It was the man I saw in the library ruins. "Look around you, Garrett. Or better yet, look down at your feet."

I didn't like to be told what to do by strangers but there was no harm in looking down—or so I thought. I almost stumbled when I saw what he wanted me to see. In the grass below me, there were footprints where I stood but my feet weren't there at all. The legs of my leathers faded into view just above the knee, and even then they were _transparent_. I held up my hands and could see him straight through the palms of my gloves.

"You're no longer in The City. Not even on the outskirts. You're in the Maw of Chaos, and we have got to get you out of here before it's too late."

This time when he turned to walk away I was right on his heels. "Am I dead?"

"For now, yes. Which is why we have to hurry."

That explained why I hadn't felt the need to breathe despite all the talking. Why I hadn't felt hungry or thirsty... Or sick. Or weak. I suddenly realized that I was thinking clearer than I had in days. The witch's stone freed me from the curse of madness by casting me into the Maw of Chaos. I should have known that a magical trinket couldn't be trusted to help me without a bad outcome... The Queen of Beggars should have known. She had to have known. How could she do this to me?

The stranger spoke up as if he could hear my thoughts. "She knew this would happen, you know. That's why she sent me here. She could see in your eyes that the corruption in the hag's lair had a powerful affect on your reason."

I frowned and stopped walking. "She seems to have a lot of knowledge for such a lack of action. The Queen of Beggars sent you here because she knew the stone would kill me."

He gained a few steps on me while I waited for his confirmation. When he turned to face me, there was a look in his eyes that said he didn't want to say what he was going to. "Yes, but it was a risk she had to take. You needed to open yourself up to the witch's stone and take its primal power, Garrett. You won't be able to take on the hag without it."

There was a lot happening to me lately that I didn't believe in. The primal enhanced my natural abilities and made it possible for me to reverse curses on people I cared about. I'd been cursed multiple times and cured just as many. Even now, I was walking around as a ghost—a real one, not just the lifestyle I preferred to lead. Being told that the Queen of Beggars risked my death for her own purposes topped them all in the realm of the unacceptable. I suddenly found it very difficult to continue walking with her associate.

"Garrett, I know this is a lot for you to take in, but we have to keep going. We have to get you back to your body before it's too late."

I looked out across the wide field we were standing in. There was a green haze that concealed any semblance of sky but the rolling grass was peaceful and inviting. I could sense something telling me that it was okay for me to stay here; that I wouldn't have to be concerned with The City, or with people I thought I knew risking my life for their own gain. My gaze swept the field and landed on a distant figure in red that stood at the edge of a forest so dark it seemed like a shadow of the other trees that were closest to it. The assurance was coming from that figure's direction. I almost stepped towards it, but then a sound drew my attention in another direction.

There was laughter coming from a different forest bathed in dull blue colors. A group of children came racing out from behind its trees—green and unclothed, just like Viktoria. These children belonged to the woods, and as they ran past me, they became the very flowers that spread their blossoms across the open field.

Their echoed laughter reminded me of another reason why I ended up in the Maw of Chaos. When I looked at the man with the lantern again, I was more certain that I needed to leave. "Lead the way."


	8. A Ghost At Last

**Part 8: A Ghost At Last**

We made it to a cave whose interior was lined with stones that had been sculpted by human hands. The cave ended in a doorway with a broad lintel, similar to the one I saw in the old library. The door had no handle or lock.

"I'll open the door to your clock tower, then you'll have to concentrate to re-enter your body from the spirit world."

"Wait." There was something else I wondered as I thought about the task ahead of me. "The hag has been skinning children and wearing their parts, but why is she demanding tribute? Why not just call the children and kill them all?"

"Because she needs the treasure to pay Red Jenny her due."

"Red Jenny?" The figure across the field. Is that who was calling me back to the dark wood?

"She goes by many names, but that's the one you'll hear most in your city. It's Red Jenny who spirits you away to where you belong when you die. Not the Trickster, though she will just as quickly hand you over to him if that's what you deserve."

"I don't understand. Why does she have to pay Red Jenny anything?"

"The hag has been dead for centuries, suffering in her own personal punishment. I still don't know how she escaped, but to keep Jenny from taking her back, she'll have to pay a king's ransom. Any soul does that tries to leave wherever it was placed."

I sensed a tone of warning to his words. Now that I knew all those fairy tales were real in some respect, I had to wonder if there was something I could do to be spared from my own special corner of the Maw. Repent? Go legit? Not likely. I'd probably be sent there faster for lying to myself about who I was.

My guide held out the crystal he used earlier and approached the doorway. With slow strokes, he drew a shape similar to a door frame and embellished it with five marks and a circle. I had a feeling he was drawing it deliberately so I could commit the shape to memory. Once the symbol was completed, a light came alive behind the door and he stood back while it opened.

I could see into the clock tower. My bed was across the way but it was empty. I moved cautiously through the door and took a brief look around. Everything was void of color but I could see all the details of the environment much more distinctly. The light from the candles and gleam from the treasures in my display area were especially eye-catching.

Candles. They were everywhere. Some were arranged along the railing that blocked off the clock's machinery. Others had been positioned on the floor in the space between the railing and the stairs. They all looked like they'd been burning for hours. I turned to ask my guide a question and saw that he was still on the other side of the doorway.

"Your body, Garrett. Where is it?"

Where would it have been? I remembered being thrown across the room, rising in the air, dropping like an anchor. There was no sign of me here—only a star-like arrangement of candles in the center of the floor.

A long sigh drew my attention upward. There were more candles along the railing of the upper level. Between a pair of them, Lorena rested her elbows on the rail and stared down at the star pattern. Her eyes were bleary—cheeks raw from being rubbed. Had she been crying over me?

"Garrett." The guide's voice called my attention again. He still hadn't set foot beyond the doorway. "This is where we part ways for now. I can't go out this way. I'm going to have to close the door and open it to a different path."

"But I don't see myself here."

"You're going to have to find yourself, then. I can't step out into the spirit realm of The City; it will tear my soul from its body and I won't be able to retrieve it. Find your body and come back to life before it's too late."

I gave him a firm nod to acknowledge what he'd done for me. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me, just find your body. Then, once you have done what you need to do, come find me again."

* * *

I looked up as Six-Fingers came in through the window on the upper level. He had a somber posture but not to Lorena's degree. When they started talking, their voices echoed like mine had in the Maw. I had to concentrate to make out their words.

"Come on, love, you shouldn't linger here. Don't let his ghost haunt you like this."

"I just don't understand." Lorena stood away from the balcony and turned her back to him. "I've seen countless people die. Many of them were by my own hand. Why does it hurt so much to know that he's gone?"

I was standing on the upper level with them. I'm not sure how I got there, just that I wanted to see and hear them better. They had to know where my body was.

Six approached Lorena and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Love's more painful than it is sweet sometimes. It can scar you good. Worse than a hot brand."

_Love?_ I knew we were getting too comfortable. Lorena couldn't have fallen in love with me. If she had, I was better off as a spirit. We were going to have to deal with her feelings once I came back to life and I was not looking forward to that conversation at all.

Six stood with Lorena to offer her comfort until she squeezed the hand he had resting on her shoulder. Then he turned and made his way down the stairs. He was eyeing the collections I had on display. When I followed his gaze, I suddenly noticed that several of the Mortal Coils bracelets were missing. A few of the brooches from the Whiteridge collection, too. He had already taken a few of my treasures and was eyeing _more!_ Six was as covetous as any thief could get, but as long as I was alive, he knew not to lay a hand on anything in the clock tower, even when I was away on business. Now that I was dead he thought my possessions were fair game. If Lorena wasn't so busy wallowing in her grief, she would have never let him lay a finger on them.

My jaw tightened when he stood in front of the display. He ran his fingers along the case that contained the collection of Serendi Stone Circles. Each ring was mounted with a different set of gemstones that had been hand-crafted by Serendi, a stonecutter whose work I greatly admired. Watching Six plant one on each of his digits made my anger flare. _I was going to murder him._

A groan traveled up the clock tower from the lower levels as the clockworks stopped, and a bitter wind blew out the candles around my hideout. I was haunting the place—the tower was vocalizing my outrage. I forced myself to calm down because I didn't want anything to happen to Six just yet. I needed that shit-sop to show me where my body was. Then I was going to get back what was mine.

Six looked wary when the clock stopped, but didn't feel inspired to put back my property. "Come on, Rena. They'll be waiting for us before they put him to the pyre." He went back upstairs and ushered Lorena out the window. I followed them but after hearing his words, I was sure I knew where they were headed.

* * *

I always imagined that I would die pushing my talents to their limits: In some distant tower or fortress with an unseen treasure, caught in a trap so ancient and clever that even I wouldn't be able to solve it. I could vividly picture my bones turning to dust in the quiet darkness. My cloak feeding the moths that made the ruins their home.

What I could never imagine was happening before my eyes: A funeral was being held for me in the ruins of the old church. The pews had been shifted to make room for a large bonfire that was kept at bay with a circle of stones. My body was laying on a slab of wood close to the flames, wrapped from head to toe in white cloth. It looked like the cloth had been soaked in something, probably to help my corpse burn faster.

There were only six people in attendance, which was still more than I thought there would be. Six and Lorena stood with Scribe, who carried her baby in a tight bundle. Basso stood next to the Queen of Beggars and teetered in a gin-soaked haze. He had his hat in one hand and an open bottle in the other, mourning the loss of all the commission I would bring him.

There were beggars sitting in and around the graveyard but I could tell they were just camping out. Their queen, on the other hand, had the most of my attention. In my dead state, I could finally see what I always knew about her eyes. They were alive with an energy I had never seen before. It could have been the primal but it burned differently from what I saw in Erin. I should have been pleased to finally solve that mystery; however, the circumstances of my discovery made it hard for me to feel joy.

I was dead and she could have prevented it. All she had to do was be straightforward with me when I first brought her the witch's stone. When I thought back on all the other times I had gone to her for guidance, I suddenly saw this pattern of cryptic seed-planting that always drove me through hardships which could have just as easily been avoided. At the time I enjoyed them. Her words were spoken puzzles that sharpened my wit, and the hardships developed an endurance in me that was unmatched by my peers. This time, her word games had gone too far. I felt wholly betrayed by one of the few people I revered above all others. Knowing that she let me die for her own aim made me angry all over again. The flames of the bonfire burned a little brighter to acknowledge my feelings on the matter.

The Queen of Beggars turned her gaze in my direction. We exchanged looks—hers was full of relief while mine was washed in discontent—then she turned her attention back to the gathering. "Though his body lay before us, do not think for a moment that Garrett is not with us. Come. Share what you have to tell him." I knew she intended for the crowd's eulogy to buy me time for a resurrection, but I was curious to hear what they had to say about me.

Basso was the first to open his mouth. "That son of a burrick finally did it. He finally made a ghost of himself. Well real ghosts can't hunt treasure, Garrett! Real ghosts can't feel coins between their fingers, or enjoy a good back and forth with an old friend!" He was actually getting choked up. I almost felt bad about the heart attack I was about to give him.

Lorena stayed quiet, but I could see in her eyes that she had a lot to say that would go unsaid. That confirmed her feelings more than words could. I wished I could have felt the same way but even in death, it wasn't in me.

Scribe stepped forward while coddling her baby. "Garrett, we were never really friends; in fact, I'm pretty sure that we constantly stole more opportunities from each other than helped each other."

That much was certainly true. I had actually come to enjoy our undeclared competition over the years. If only she still stole something other than information.

"But after what you did for my family... Saving Six from that curse and me from the asylum... I consider you one of the best friends I've ever had. I wish I could have told you that while you were alive. Wherever you are now, I hope you know that you won't be forgotten. Not as long as I can put a pen to paper and let the world know of how great you really were."

Her offer was touching but I didn't want my story to be told. I had already tried once to pass my secrets onto someone and that turned out to be a bad idea for the both of us. I was going to have to come back to life, if only to stop Scribe from turning me into a children's bedtime story, or a book for lonely housewives.

I started to approach my corpse but stopped when I heard Six's voice. "Yeah, mate, and don't worry about your clock tower. We'll clear it out. Make sure no one sees you were ever there." He still had most of Serendi's rings on his fingers. The pyre burned brighter again while I looked at him.

The Queen of Beggars cleared her throat, which drew my attention to her. She made the slightest hand gesture to remind me that I needed to get back in my body, then began her own goodbyes to prolong the distraction. I walked up to my corpse and hesitated for a moment. My attention was drawn to the space between two pillars where an archway collapsed years ago.

She was watching me from the darkest shadow, her red gown wavering in a wind that just wasn't there. I could sense that she wanted me to come with her and return to the dark forest. Her unspoken offer was strangely tempting but I turned away from her just the same. _Not tonight, Red Jenny. I still have too much to do._

As soon as I laid down I could feel my heart beating again. The need to draw breath was immediate and I took several deep gasps through the fabric that was soaked in a pungent oil. I coughed and tried to bring my hand up to to cover my mouth. My arms were pinned to my chest. I squirmed in my bonds for what seemed like ages but stopped when a blade cut through the cloth on my head—almost cutting my ear. Fingers reached in after the blade was withdrawn and once the fabric was torn aside, I found myself staring straight up into Lorena's face. She looked like she had just seen a ghost.

"Mind cutting me out of this?"

"Gods among us!" She sliced the wrap so quickly I almost thought she was going to gut me in the process. I rolled out of the cocoon and pushed myself to a stand. I had to admit, it was really good to see exactly where my legs were again.

Their reactions alone were worth the trip back. Basso dropped his bottle and Scribe nearly dropped her baby. Six stood with his mouth open and moved his hands behind himself to conceal the rings he stole. I could only look at Lorena for a moment—she looked surprised but her eyes also reminded me that there was something else I was going to have to deal with. The Queen of Beggars wasn't a better focus for my gaze. She was smiling in my direction because she couldn't see the muted animosity written all over my living face.

Scribe was the first to speak. "My goodness, but you are the master of crying wolf, Garrett. We thought you were _dead! _You were moments away from going on the pyre."

"I _was _dead. I went to the Maw and wandered its woods."

The exchange distracted me enough for Basso to finally get the jump on me. He came at me from the side and clamped his arms around me. The fermented heat on his breath nearly shut down my nostrils. "Garrett! Garrett, you're alive! You son of a bitch! You gave me the scare of my life and I will never forgive you!" All said while he squeezed me as tightly as he could, resting his head on my shoulder. Lorena and Six-Fingers helped to pry him off and settled him on a stack of old bricks. Then the latter of the two approached me. He had hidden the rings from my sight but there was uncertainty in his movements, as if he knew that I knew what he had done.

"Good to see you alive again, mate." Six covered his apprehension with false cheer but it was too late for that. I grabbed him as soon as he was within arm's reach, then spun around and leaned him backwards in the direction of the bonfire. If not for my grip on the front of his vest he would have been taken by the flames. The others made startled gasps but did nothing to intervene.

"_You shit-sucking taffer!_"

Now he really knew that I knew. Maybe he suspected that taking my things is what brought me back from the grave. All the better to get what I was owed and make sure he never crossed me again.

"I-I-I-I-I'm sorry, Garrett! I really am! I thought you were dead—we all did!"

"That is NO excuse! After all I've done for you, you should be _jumping_ at the chance to bury me with my things, not using them to line your own _pockets! _You are going to return everything you took from me. Every, last, PIECE!" I let my grip lax a bit so he could feel the warmth of the fire lap against his shaved head. "_Or so help me_, I will walk you to the entrance of the Maw and _push_ you into the arms of the Trickster _myself!_"

I didn't wait for him to agree; after all, I wasn't giving him a choice. I threw Six away from the fire and he landed in a heap at Scribe's feet. Their infant was crying at the sudden change in mood but Scribe was quick to calm her nerves. Then she freed one of her hands and slapped the back of Six's head where the fire had him only moments ago. "Gods take you, Six-Fingers, you can be _so_ _unbelievable_ sometimes! You are sleeping on the FLOOR until you make this right!"

"But babe—"

"The only babe here is Addi, and even _she_ is not going to speak to you for a while. _Come on, jacknall!_ Good to see you alive again, Garrett."

I nodded after Scribe, who lead Six-Fingers away like a man condemned. The Queen of Beggars was the next to leave after a lingering stare in my direction. Basso wasn't going anywhere; he had fallen asleep on the stones he sat on. That left only one last attendant to my funeral, which meant I could no longer avoid meeting Lorena's gaze.


	9. Matters of the Heart

**Part 9: Matters of the Heart**

We stood outside of each others' reach, silently waiting for someone to begin. She decided to go first but in that same second, I realized I couldn't let her.

"Garrett—"

"I know how you feel about me, Lorena." She looked relieved at what I said and full of dreadful anticipation over what I was going to say next. "You have to understand. I don't—I can't feel for you the same way Six and Scribe feel for each other. I don't want what they have."

Somehow my words brought even more relief to her features. "Neither do I! I don't want that, either. Settling down, having a baby..." She looked repulsed by the idea. "There is too much in this world for me to see and do. Too much I _have_ done, whose memories remind me that I am not meant to walk that path." Her eyes welled with desperation that kept me silent. "But that's _why_ I love you, Garrett. You don't ask me to be anything but myself. You know who I am, and what I do, and you can still stand the sight of me. To be close enough to share the same breath."

By then we were sharing the same breath. As she spoke, she had moved closer to me and for all the love I lacked, I couldn't move. I felt sorry for Lorena. Guilty, too. I could have stopped this months ago but I had physical urges and thought her needs were just as simple.

She was waiting for me to say something—to put her out of her misery. For a brief moment, I thought about what it might be like to love Lorena. Could it just be what we had together over the winter season, meeting every once in a while to keep each other warm? Or would a greater attachment build that would later inspire us to settle down and have children together?

The children. Suddenly this moment with Lorena became irrelevant. I died and came back for a reason and sadly, she was not it. I could sense that she finally realized it when I stepped around her and walked away. There was a pain in my chest for a few strides but it released when I broke into a jog.

* * *

I returned to the clock tower to rest and clear my head. I could see in my mirror that I still looked like death, which meant I was going to have to save myself before I could save anyone else. I spent the next few days following Maurus' advice on what food and medicine to take to restore myself to peak condition. As the weather became a little warmer, I started feeling like my old self again.

The newspaper never spoke about the trend of missing children but I knew that it was still happening. I could still hear the flute playing in the night; however, I learned to close my mind to it after a while. There was nothing I could do while my body was weak. I would just have to avenge all of them once I was well.

The night came when I finally felt ready to deal with the hag. Her music began just as I finished getting dressed. I left for the docks but I didn't approach the customs house directly—there was something else I had to do first.

I stood at the foot of Baron's Way South, next to the highcollar I had knocked unconscious. Behind me, the customs house bridge was staring down the road and far ahead of me, small lights rushed down the hill and gradually closed the distance. I counted thirteen children glowing in the blue aura that rendered them invisible to others. Of the thirteen, only one ran with empty hands. To me that was still one too many.

I let the others run past me because I understood that they were safe. When the empty-handed boy came within reach, I put my hand on his shoulder and stopped him instantly. The flute music amplified as soon as I touched him—it must have been louder in his head than it was in mine. Painfully so. No wonder they felt so compelled to comply. I fought to stay on my feet and concentrated on silencing the sound for both of us.

The music stopped and he looked up at me, eyelids heavy as if he were still in a dream.

"Go home," I told him and he immediately obeyed. He ran back up the street, still cloaked in the aura that the music gave him. I watched until he turned down a side road, then my attention shifted to the docks. I was going to have to wait for the others to leave before taking care of the hag.

When I approached the customs house it was purely to watch and wait; however, what I could now see had greatly caught my interest. There were symbols glowing on every inch of the building: A repetitious pattern of shapes written in a white light. I had no idea what any of it meant but the way it wrapped and repeated itself reminded me of rope, or chains. It was there to keep the hag in her lair. That's why she called the children to her. This wasn't just her lair—it was her prison.

My gaze traveled upward to the top of the building, where the symbols looked corrupted. Some had twisted sideways as if they were written at impossible angles; others had changed completely, breaking the pattern. All of the corrupted symbols were tarnished and dull, like rust. The corrosion had only affected the top two layers but the madness that was written in the warped symbols could be felt even at a distance. That had to have been what affected me before. The barrier was damaged, and while it could still keep the hag in, anyone else who crossed it would go insane.

But what about the children? Was the flute keeping them protected? Just as I wondered that, they came crawling from the duct and rushed back in the direction they came from. I counted all twelve heads to make sure they were all there. Good. They were veiled in their auras, which would see them home safely. With that in mind, I turned back to the customs house and approached the barricade.

The longer I stared at the symbols, the more they looked alive to me. They were similar to the one the guide had drawn above the door in the Maw. Similar to the ones I remembered seeing in the old library, when I was stealing the book for Orion. I got the sense that I could reach out and peel them off the very bricks they were written on. Since the seal was corrupted, I saw no reason why it should stand. I reached out to touch a thick downward brush stroke—

"Garrett, _stop_." It didn't surprise me that the Queen of Beggars was watching me in that moment. "You don't know what you do by removing that."

"Isn't this what you brought me back for? To deal with the hag once and for all?"

"If you let her loose in The City, a few children will not be the only people who suffer each night."

I turned to look at her. She kept to the mouth of a dark alley but I didn't need the lamp light to see her for what she really was. Her recent actions had been very telling. "How long have you been pushing my piece across your chessboard? Since the Baron's ritual put me in a coma? Since I was a boy starving in the streets? You could have made me one of your beggar dogs back then but it was better if I thought I had some level of control, wasn't it?"

"You have always been in control, Garrett. The choices you've made are what lead up to this moment."

"Choices made with select information! It's really hard to listen when you aren't being told the full story." I wished she could see the glare in my eyes. "Your friend with the lantern was a lot more forthcoming with answers. You knew the stone would kill me and you made no effort to warn me at all!"

She sounded disappointed by my revelation. "He should not have spoken so freely to you of it, but I am not surprised that he did. He has begun to be more plainspoken than he should be."

"Yeah, well I _like_ plain speak. I like facts handed to me on a silver platter. But rather than tell me what I needed to know like a _normal_ person in need of my services, you strung me along piecemeal for your own purposes!"

"To speak so directly is to put you on a path not of your choosing. You would be living in anticipation of events to come. That is why I conduct myself the way I do. You must unfold the story for yourself, Garrett. It was never my intention to write it for you."

"But you did outline the chapters for me, didn't you?" I spit the words bitterly in her direction, then shook my head. "Whatever your agenda, Beggar Queen, I won't be a part of it after I deal with this."

"Garrett, you needed—"

"_You_ needed me! Not the other way around! That's why you encouraged me to use the stone. That's why you sent your agent to bring me back from the Maw! From the black _nothingness_ where I was placed..."

The thought of all that nothingness dragged my gaze down the docks, where a flash of red fabric moved in time with the lapping waves that rocked the buoys in the bay. Red Jenny was watching me from a distance; reminding me that I was on borrowed time. That was the other reason I had to break into the hag's lair. We both owed Jenny her due, and only one of us would get to use that king's ransom to send her away.

I was a little calmer when I turned to the Queen again, not that she could see it. "I'm dealing with this my way, which means I'm dealing with this now." She retreated into the alley but I didn't wait to see if she was going to watch or leave. I turned back to the barricade and reached for the symbol closest to me. My fingers gripped the brush stroke as if it were paper, then I ripped it away from the stone it was painted on.


	10. Red Jenny's Ransom

**Part 10: Red Jenny's Ransom**

The barrier unraveled quickly. One symbol followed the other, each one fading until they crumbled into dry ink that wafted away on the sea breeze. Even the corrupted coils at the top came undone. Their collapse echoed in thunder down the city streets but I knew no one else would hear it. The City would only know the silence that followed.

I looked to my right, then to my left. There were no guards around, and Red Jenny was nowhere to be seen. Now that the seal was broken, I was going to have to get inside and face the hag.

Or so I thought. On instinct alone, I rushed sideways from the barricade in time to avoid the explosion that sent splintered wood flying in all directions. The hag stood in the wake of settling dust and looked down the dock with an eager gleam in her borrowed eyes. The skin and bones that held her together had been added to many times since I saw her last, and she now stood taller than me by several feet. Her shoulders were broader, too, stretched out by the flesh that pushed behind the faces sewn into her shoulders.

I should have recoiled from the sight of her but I was intrigued by an act of self-mutilation she was performing. She carved a ribbon of symbols across her torso, watching every dark corner around her for signs of someone in particular. She was so busy looking out for Red Jenny that she didn't notice me tipping up to her from behind, reaching for the flute that hung from a cord around her misshapen hips. I didn't waste time cutting it gently from her cord—I stabbed the tip of an arrow into her backside to cut the cord, then pulled the flute free.

The hag grunted but didn't sound injured. Her head swung around her shoulder before the rest of her body rotated to look in my direction. "What is this? A child dares to strike his elder?" She reached behind herself and dislodged my arrow while I hid myself in the shadow of the customs house and waited for her to come looking for me. She wasn't interested. Instead, she turned to an arrangement of tall crates that were parked nearby. Her twisted hands lifted one crate with ease and launched it in my direction. I almost had to leap into the water to avoid the explosion of wood, straw and stone that came of it.

I rolled across the wood and managed to stop myself before I went off the edge. By the time I recovered, the hag was at the end of a feverish fit to tear the remaining crates apart. Two of them hid statues of men that were chiseled out of solid sandstone. The sight of them seemed to inspire her. With an eager smile, she reached up and scratched a pronged symbol on each of their foreheads.

I planned to launch a fire arrow at her but my aim was cut short by movement from the statues. The symbols on their foreheads gave them life, and when the hag pointed in my general direction they rushed to meet the challenge. I moved to outrun them but the only place I could go was into the customs house. The hag went in the opposite direction, fleeing down the Baron's Way towards the northeast.

* * *

The interior of the customs building was mostly dark and I didn't have a problem staying hidden from the hag's stone mercenaries. I could have snuck past them but there was a reason why I needed the place to myself. I could see her in the corner of my eye, once again trying to convince me to submit to the dark. _Dammit, Jenny. Be patient and you will get your due._

I slipped from one old desk to another to follow a statue's patrol. When it stopped to stare in the meeting hall, I sprang out of hiding and leaped on its back. It staggered around the open space and tried to shake me off. As predicted, its partner rushed in with a stone truncheon raised high.

I waited until the right moment to drop from the first statue's back. The second swung so hard that it broke its club and forearm on the back of the first. The statue I fell from lost its head in the strike and when its body hit the floor, it shattered into pieces. I used the claw to shatter a calf on the remaining statue and as it fell backwards, I ran up its torso and brought the claw down on its forehead. Breaking the symbol seemed to be all that was really needed to end its temporary life.

I thought I was finally alone but there were men shouting from the docks. The explosion must have attracted the attention of the Baron's Watch—I couldn't let them near the treasure. I rushed past the open archway and checked the door to the hag's treasure room. Of course it was locked. I had to take the time to deal with that and the old door's design made it take longer than I would have liked.

"Hey, you! Halt!" I set the last pin in place just as a blacktop spotted me. The door pulled outward, which meant I wouldn't getting away with blocking it from the inside; instead, I had to use a length of rope on the handle, taken from the cord I normally kept for rappelling. An iron sconce next to the door still had enough strength to keep the guard from pulling it open but it was only a matter of time before reinforcements arrived.

I turned to look at the treasure. It was piled high but would it be enough? I walked uphill on the gold and sat down on the table that was mostly submerged in the pile. Before I could even wonder how to call her, Red Jenny let me know that she was already there.

She stood in front of the door, ignoring the noisy struggle behind it. Her red robe was fitted to her shape and the black of her hair only made her pale skin more obvious. She looked expectantly at me. She knew what I had to say but wanted me to say it.

"Red Jenny. This fortune is yours in exchange for my life."

"Are you sure it is yours to give?"

I didn't know what else to say. I was sitting on a mountain of gold—the guide said I would have to pay to escape death... Unless he was wrong about what the payment actually was.

"Name your price. I can't go back to the darkness. You know this."

"I know only when the appointed hour comes, and yours came many days ago. Are you not tired..."

I started to feel tired.

"Do you not desire rest..."

I could feel my heartbeat slowing down and it became harder to take a simple breath. I forced myself to focus and looked her dead in the eye. "_No._ I can't leave here. Not after what that monster did to those children."

"You mean these children?"

Jenny lifted her arms and the space between us filled with young faces of varying ages, some in night clothes and others in rags. They were the souls of the children the hag had slaughtered. My heart felt like a stone in my chest when I recognized the green gown on Perkis' daughter. I could feel the words "forgive me" pass my lips before I could stop myself. Her eyes were anything but forgiving so I knew it was a waste of breath.

"I have come to take them to the woods," Jenny explained. "The barrier prevented me before, so for that, you have my thanks."

I looked on with caution. "Then... you aren't here for me?"

Her attention went to the door, where the rope I tied was starting to fray. She rested a single hand lightly on the handle but it was enough to keep the door from being pulled at all. I could hear the guard's confusion behind it. Then his steps echoed into silence.

Red Jenny turned her attention back to me. "Make no mistake, Garrett. One day I will come for you, and there will be no amount that you can pay to avoid my escort. But for now, you have paid your dues. See to it that Gamall pays hers."

Broad wings revealed themselves over Jenny's shoulders, made of feathers as vibrant as her robe. The wings bowed forward at an impossible angle and stretched over the crowd of children's souls. They were gone when the wings folded back and so was she. I hadn't blinked the whole time but I had a feeling she didn't need my attention to shift elsewhere to make her hasty retreat.

The treasure was also gone. Every last coin and gem vanished without a trace. The room seemed much more spacious by contrast. Good thing, because the guard returned with friends to try again. Three pry bars jut past the doorjamb and with their combined might, the blacktops finally broke the rope from the handle. I was still sitting on the table when they entered but by then, I was also dancing a favorite toy of mine on the tips of my fingers.

The flash bomb filled the room with more light than it had been filled with treasure only moments ago. I slipped by the guards while they tried to get their bearings and left the customs house to their investigation. At least the children whose corpses were still in there would be brought to rest. The hag had made herself out of the parts of many, and I intended to see to it they were all taken from her.


	11. A Trip Abroad

**Part 11: A Trip Abroad**

I had lost the hag's trail and needed to know how to get it back. This was a moment when I would have gone running to the Queen of Beggars for her cryptic answers but they were no longer satisfying. No, her associate had definitely been more eager to give information. He had told me to find him; even showed me the key. Now I had to figure out to use it.

There were doors everywhere in The City but none like the door I remembered in the Maw. The one he walked through in the old library was similar, but different as well. The thought stopped me in my tracks. Did I even need that door? I looked to my left at a shop that had been closed for the night.

The door was locked but I let that be for now. I was more interested in the sign that was fixed above it. I knew what I needed to draw, now I needed something to draw it. The guide had used some sort of stick on one occasion and a crystal on another. I wondered if—

There was a pale light shining behind the tips of my index and middle fingers. When I lifted them to look it was gone, but when I stretched my hand up again it came back. Well, there was my answer. I traced a door-shaped pattern over the wood just as I remembered and finished it with a circle in the center. As soon as the symbol was complete, a light shined through the door's keyhole despite the fact that all of the lights were off in the shop.

I decided to look before I leaped. Through the keyhole, I could see the guide sitting in a high-backed chair, reading a book. He was next to a fireplace and a table set with fresh food. His hood was down and I could plainly see the features on his face. He looked like he could have been my older brother. I really hoped he wasn't because I was not in the mood for a family reunion.

I didn't hesitate to open the door after that. The guide looked up as soon as I pushed in and set his book aside. "Finally. Did you deal with the hag?"

"First thing's first," I said and leaned against the closed door. "Are you related to me in any way?"

He looked at me strangely but gave a straight answer. "No. Not even remotely."

"Good." With that out of the way, I approached his table and looked at the bounty. There was food on his plate that I hadn't seen in The City in a while: Roasted duck, yellow cheese, grapes—I hadn't tasted a grape since I broke into Lord Meiers' mansion and that was over a year ago. I took the bunch off the plate and wandered the room with them. Each green orb was tastier than the last.

"Sure, help yourself. You must be starving if you just finished sending the hag back to the Maw."

I admitted that she got away, which prompted him to rise from his seat.

"What! You freed her from her lair? Do you have any idea what you've done!"

I stopped in front of a blue curtain that concealed a window. "You're starting to sound like the Queen of Beggars right now and I have to tell you, she is no longer on my good side." Out of curiosity, I drew back the curtain and stared outside. Wherever I was, the sun was starting to rise. The room I stood in must have been at the top of a tower because the window overlooked a vast city surrounded by green and white mountains.

I settled the curtain and looked at my host. "Who, or what, is Gamall."

"Gamall is the true name of the hag. She used to be one of us."

I walked past the table and took hold of the knife that was embedded in the roast duck, tearing a piece off for myself in the process. "Us?"

"Yes."

"You don't mean 'human,' do you."

"Well, yes and no."

I stepped up to him before he could blink and pinned him against the door with the knife blade pressing the meat under his jaw. "_Enough word games._ I am one cryptic answer away from pushing you through this door and kicking you down the streets of South Quarter, or whatever hallway the door leads to now!"

There wasn't an ounce of fear in his eyes despite the knife at his neck. "I'm sorry, Garrett. It is not in a Keeper's nature to speak so frankly. I still have a lot to learn in that regard."

A Keeper... I had heard that word before. It was written in some of the old patient files I browsed at Moira. One of the patients called herself a Keeper. Her file said she kept trying to go through walls after drawing on them with her own blood.

"You can start by telling me your name," I said as I moved away from the Keeper. A bookshelf across the room drew my attention.

"My name is Costa."

"Tell me what you know about Gamall, Costa."

He went back to his seat and I could feel his eyes on me. "She was a Keeper, sworn to maintain the balance of life. She became corrupted by her own knowledge and used it to commit unspeakable acts against mankind, as well as our oldest order. The man who defeated her was like you, Garrett. He even had the same name."

"I could point out at least three other Garretts I've run across in The City. It's not an uncommon name."

"Yes, but not everyone called Garrett has earned the title of Master Thief."

My gaze drifted across the tomes until I saw one that had symbols written on the spine that were similar to the ones I had taken off the customs house. I plucked the book off the shelf and flipped through its pages. More symbols were illustrated inside it but the explanation for their use was written in an old style of text I couldn't read.

Costa continued to talk and I noticed he had discreetly changed the subject. "You have a natural gift for skills that were traditionally taught to Keepers in the past. That's why the Queen of Beggars looked to you, Garrett. That, and your deep concern for others mixed with a conflicting aversion to personal attachment."

I turned so he could see just how deeply I was frowning at his words. There were too many people assuming that they knew me more than I knew myself. After I dealt with the hag, I was going to have to start getting in front of this trend.

"Get back to Gamall," I insisted as I faced the bookshelf again. I concealed the tome on my person and examined the spines of the other books for anything else that might be of interest to me.

"When Gamall resurfaced, the Queen of Beggars sent for me to deal with her, but the most I could do was seal her in that building. She almost negated the bind I made before it was done. After that, I couldn't get in to finish the job."

"Because the corruption caused madness." I shook my head and picked up another book. "One of you should have told me."

"I know, and for that I am truly sorry." He was quiet for a moment but I doubt he was waiting for me to accept his apology. "How did Gamall escape her lair? What did you do to the barrier?"

"I pulled on it. The ink tore away from the wall."

This time his silence made me turn around. He was studying me as if I had just appeared out of thin air. Then, without acknowledging his odd stare, he resumed the conversation. "Well that barrier wasn't just keeping the hag in—it was also keeping Red Jenny out. Now that it's gone, Gamall will be running for her life."

I stepped away from the bookshelf and approached him. "Do you have an idea where she might go?"

"The City has changed a lot since she was alive... If she were to go anywhere, it might be the old library, in the ruins of the Keepers' hold."

Maybe I should have gone there first; that would have spared me the more irritating parts of this conversation. I nodded and turned for the door. "All right. How do I make this door of yours take me there?"

He sounded confused when he responded to me. "Didn't you come in through there? It's the only glyph-bearing door still left in The City."

"No, I came in through the door of a shoe shop."

By the look on his face, I was just full of surprises. After he picked his jaw up off the floor, he shook his head and told me, "Do exactly what you did to get in here. It will get you where you need to go. Then I urge you to return once you've killed Gamall. There is a lot you need to know about who you really are."

"I already know who I am. If _you_ really knew anything about me, then you would know that you are a long way from convincing me to return."

Costa looked like he had more to say but I wasn't going to listen. I reached up above the door and traced the symbol I used to get there. Before I opened the door, I spared a glance back to gauge his reaction. He kept a steady frown but I could see the fascination in the corners of his eyes. The power the witch's stone gave me was unexpected. Good. I didn't want to have all my tricks so easily known.


	12. The Grey Lady

**Part 12: The Grey Lady**

I came out through the half-collapsed room near the ruined courtyard. I expected to hear the Gloomlurkers stirring in the darkness but instead, I heard the distant echo of screaming and yelling. It was faint, but I could also make out the sound of Madame Xiao-Xiao barking orders at her guards. The closer I got to the House of Blossoms, the more it sounded like the entire staff had made their way into the ruins.

I was mostly right: Most of Xiao-Xiao's Petals and Blossoms were huddled in the area she'd converted into a private reading room. They were trying not to panic every time something above us slammed heavily into the ruins and shook the dust from the rafters. The madame herself was in a cotton bathrobe and looked like she barely had time to put on her wig before the attack started. I watched from one of the rafters as she laid into the guards that stood in front of her.

"Unbelievable! Not a pair of hammers between any of your legs! You're just going to squat down here like cowards and let that beast ransack my place of business?"

I was amused by her choice of words. I had once been low enough to the ground to see the hammers "Madame" Xiao-Xiao hides. She does a decent job with hair and makeup but she was no more a woman than I was.

"Forgive us, Madame X, but you didn't see that monster tear Lyle's hide right off his meat! Ain't enough coin in your purse to make us risk that same fate!"

"So what am I to do in the meantime, huh? Stay down here and hope it goes away? I swear, when this is over you will all be lucky to have jobs cleaning the spunk from the flower bud suites!"

Another jolt shook the room and turned the madame's attention upwards. That's when she saw me hovering overhead. "_Thief!_ Where the hell did you come from?"

I squinted as the guards shined lanterns in my direction. "Long story. I might tell it to you sometime."

Xiao-Xiao didn't particularly care for me since that day I wasted an entire shipment of opium knocking out her staff so I could rob the House blind. The noise upstairs, however, reminded her that she had bigger problems. "_Please_ don't tell me _you_ brought that thing here."

I shook my head.

"Then please _do_ tell me you're here to get rid of it."

"Something like that."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank the gods, a _real_ man at last. I will be forever grateful if you succeed. Your next two visits to the House will be on me."

I smirked at her 'generous' offer. "I'll keep that in mind." She waved her guards away from the room entrance and I dropped down to approach the secret passage leading back to her office.

* * *

Much of the House was in shambles. A few clients, guards and girls were laying dead in its halls. In the grand hall, Gamall was throwing furniture around as if it were toys.

"_Whores_," she hissed to no one. "Defiling this sacred place with your wretchedness!" She was certainly one to talk. The stretched hides and sagging faces that held her together had an added component: The symbols that scarred her stolen flesh were now burning bright red. The glow was helpful for tracking her as she roamed the darker hallways.

A flash of red fabric caught my attention. Red Jenny was here—I could see her beyond the silk curtains that marked the entrance of one of the House's suites. She looked expectantly at me but wasn't calling me to the dark wood. No, she needed me to do something else for her. The symbols that scarred Gamall's skin were a corrupted version of the barrier that protected her lair. Beyond them, a dull light pulsated in her chest and remained safe from Jenny's reach. I accepted the job with a nod and moved on. Now for the fun part.

* * *

The symbols Gamall had carved into herself went across her torso like a sash. There were others marked in the foreheads of a few faces but they didn't call my attention. I needed to pull the longer pattern off of her. I moved along the wall and stepped behind a few curtains when it looked like she was turning around. Once she moved on, I came out from hiding and picked up the pace.

I made my move when she stopped in the dining hall. My fingers reached for a symbol at the small of her back, but the face closest to the symbol let out a scream that startled me. Gamall swiped backwards and I was thrown back down the hall. She followed after me quicker than I thought her corpse could lumber. I ducked into a suite and she was hot on my heels; fortunately, the bed was pretty bouncy. I sprang up into an open ceiling vent and managed to retrieve my legs before she could cut them from my thighs.

She was too massive to follow me but that didn't stop her from feeling around. I discreetly removed the screws from a side vent but didn't leave quite yet; instead, I turned around and stabbed her in the palm with an arrow I tied to a rope from my spare pouch. The face on her palm screamed but I didn't stop pushing until the serrated arrowhead came through the other side. Then I brought the length of the rope with me into the hall and fixed it to the handles of an armoire below the vent. Even with one arm she had the strength to lift it off the ground, but it was too big to pull through the hole in the wall.

Gamall thrashed her free arm wildly in my direction, swiping the curtains from the doorway. I sprinted towards her while she was too busy shaking the fabric from her claws. Faces along her torso and legs screamed their alarm but that didn't stop me. I dug into her leathery skin and pulled the pattern of symbols with me as I dove between her legs.

"NO!" The hag spun around and slapped me with her cloth-covered hand. I was dazed but still managed to roll away from another swipe. I ducked back in the direction of the door and made it out into the hall. By that time, she had torn her trapped arm from its shoulder and came thundering out of the room after me.

I backed down the hallway but was stopped in my tracks when I turned around. Red Jenny was standing there, looking over me at Gamall.

"No..." The hag shook the curtain that was stuck on the jagged bones of her hand. She couldn't scratch at her skin like she needed to, not that would it have mattered. Gamall took several steps backwards but when she turned to run, her path was blocked by the souls of the men and women she had recently killed in the House of Blossoms.

I moved out of Jenny's way but stood still when a crowd of children rushed past me and towards the hag. They each pulled a piece of her with them as they returned to the distant darkness they came from. The guards, clients and women of the House of Blossoms all had their turn as well. Gamall cried out in protest but she was quickly overwhelmed. Each piece of stolen skin, flesh and bone was carried off to the unknown.

What was left behind was the withered soul of an old woman, trying to conceal her gaunt within a tattered gray gown. I could almost pity her if I didn't just watch the souls of her victims reveal her to the world. Now I just wanted to see her get what was coming to her.

The wings that spread from Red Jenny's back were scaled over and sharp—what you would expect to see on a demon. Her right hand lifted to grasp the handle of a reaping scythe that now stood next to her. I could hear Gamall whimpering but my vision of her was partially obscured by Jenny's wings. I certainly wasn't about to ask her to move for my sake.

Gamall pleaded with Jenny as if that would make all the difference. "No... No, I gathered the gold. I have your king's ransom! Return to my lair and take it! Please!"

Her answer was exactly what I thought it would be. "All the gold in the world will not pay your debt, Gamall. Your crimes are far too great, especially now." The scythe end tapped the ground with a din and Jenny's wings clapped forward. Then I was all alone.


	13. The Greater Folly of Anger

**Part 13: The Greater Folly of Anger**

I had a long day of sleep planned when I entered the clock tower. I almost started stripping down for it, but something told me I wasn't as alone as I thought. "You're not welcome here anymore, so I don't know why you've come."

The Queen of Beggars came to the foot of the stairs but wisely remained on the lower level. "I wanted to make sure that you were all right."

"Save it," I hissed. "You got me and all those children killed. You could have acted sooner. I could have acted on your behalf."

She shook her head at the staircase. "Your heart wasn't open wide enough. Even after all you did for Erin and The City. After you took care of Sarto. You wanted things to go back the way they were before. That is no longer possible, Garrett."

I was insulted by what she meant. "Do you think I wouldn't have done anything because there was no money involved? She was skinning children a_live!_"

"And when did their welfare suddenly become valuable to you, Garrett?" Her words struck me like a whip across the face. "How many have you passed on the streets while they begged for bread? How often have you looked away while a grown man lead a young girl behind a closed door?"

If I tried to think back on those moments I wouldn't be able to remember them vividly, but I had let a lot of things happen around me while I picked houses clean. They weren't my concern. They were just distractions that worked in my favor.

The fact that I started to think about those moments was proof that things would never be the same, and I started to feel cursed all over again. How could I go back to stealing with no regard for the consequences? Was this part of her plan, to train me like a dog then force me to reconsider my way of life?

"The Baron's ritual has caused a great imbalance in The City." The Queen of Beggars started walking up the stairs. I made sure the click could be heard when I took the bow from my back and aimed an arrow in her direction.

"_Get out._" My words were the warning growl of a cornered animal. I was beyond upset that her meddling had such an impact on me.

She took another step up. "Releasing the primal has awakened powers that were put to rest by our forefathers. Only a Keeper can set the balance right, and that Keeper is you."

I pulled the bowstring tighter and tilted my head to match the sight.

"I am being straightforward with you, Garrett! You are a Keeper, and you have been awakened to your purpose! There is no going back to the way things were. The shadows will not hide you from this any longer!"

There was a time when the forcefulness of her voice could stop me in my tracks and make me reconsider my actions. Not this time. I let the arrow go without a second thought. The rat that was quietly observing from her shoulder, took its last breath when it was impaled in the display table across from the foot of the stairs.

"Leave." That was the last warning planned to give her.

The Queen of Beggars stood still for a long time. I almost perceived a twinge of hurt in her dead eyes but I was too upset to confirm it. She turned and crept back downstairs, stopping to gather the rat from the table. When she spoke again, her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

"The City needs you, Garrett. You don't have to accept it for it to be true."

I turned my back on the staircase. She could get out however she came in; for that matter, I was agitated that she had gotten in at all. Once I knew I was finally alone, I set out the books I had stolen from Costa's tower. The one with the symbols was especially interesting to me. If something like that was powerful enough to keep Gamall's enemies away, I didn't see why it couldn't work on mine.

End


End file.
